


The Dark Creeps In

by dreamsoflovingness



Series: A Ballad of Fire [2]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lucien Vanserra-centric, Not Canon Compliant, POV Lucien (ACoTaR), Past Abuse, Poor Lucien Vanserra, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27076627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsoflovingness/pseuds/dreamsoflovingness
Summary: He shouldn’t have fought back in the forest. Yes, he should’ve let his brothers kill him. Being tortured by them would’ve been easier than this.----After being cornered by his brothers, Lucien deals with the fact the family he thought he found thinks he was with Tamlin instead.
Relationships: Azriel & Lucien Vanserra, Cassian & Lucien Vanserra, Elain Archeron & Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron & Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Jesminda/Lucien Vanserra, Lucien Vanserra & Morrigan, Rhysand & Lucien Vanserra
Series: A Ballad of Fire [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974892
Comments: 13
Kudos: 90





	The Dark Creeps In

**Author's Note:**

> I-  
> This got really dark really quick. Oops.   
> Major TW: Self-harm, Suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, self-loathing

As Lucien rushed off the ship and laid his eyes on the battlefield, all he saw was pure chaos. He could see Cassian in the sky leading the Illyrians. It was easy to forget that the friendly and affectionate Illyrian was indeed the General Commander of the Night Court, the Lord of Bloodshed. Lucien could hear his roar as he landed on the ground and released the power of his siphons. 

With a cry of his own he stormed the battlefield. It had been so long since he felt this sort of pure primal adrenaline pump through his veins. They had landed behind Hybern, meaning Lucien had to fight his way through to the other side. To his friends. To his  _ family _ . He grunted as a shield slammed into him, sending him sprawling to the ground.  _ Get up, get up, get up _ . Pushing himself up was harder than he thought with the sheer scale of the violence around him. Eventually a hand wrapped around his forearm and hauled him up. He turned to thank them only to be met with familiar green eyes. 

Tamlin’s eyes were pained yet his face expressionless. He should’ve let Lucien to die for betraying him, but he still pulled him to his feet. The High Lord let him go, shifting into his beat form and charging into the Hybern forces. 

Lucien pushed forward through the mess of bodies and blood. His feet slipped on the mud below and his arm ached with each slam of a sword on his knives. Vassa was going to have a field day when he admits that she was right about needing a sword. Then again, Lucien didn’t plan on being in the thick of it. Foolish, but Lucien had originally planned to sneak about the main fighting to Rhysand and Feyre. But there was no way to do that when the hull of the ship he was on knocked down soldiers as it beached. 

A shock of red hair caught his attention.

“Fuck,” he cursed before he felt a hand tangle in his hair and dragged away. Lucien cried out as they tugged, he tried to fight but his feet were still slipping. 

They dragged him off the battlefield into the forest. It was enough where they could still hear the fighting, but they were concealed by the trees. Lucien was thrown onto the ground and a foot on his neck kept him pinned. 

“I told you I’d find you,” The person snarled, a dagger gripped in his hand. He gasped for air as their foot put more pressure on his windpipe. 

“Ro...ri…” Lucien choked out. Rori snarled wildly. 

There was a time when Lucien had loved Rori, his older brother. He was Carmine’s twin and the middle children in Baron’s gaggle of kids. Rori was always the kindest out of all them and never did Lucien think he would be the one to betray him. Then again, Rori probably didn’t think that Lucien would ever leave the Autumn Court. 

“Enough Rori, you have to leave some for the rest of us,” Asher mocked. At the sight of him Lucien thrashed under Rori’s foot, desperately trying to push it away. 

“Oh, Ash, he’s still scared of you,” Rori snarled down at Lucien. 

Asher was capable of so much sadism that even Baron treaded lightly around his son. Violence flowed through Asher’s veins and it was evident each time he beat a sentinel to death during sparring. It was Asher and Rori who had chased him to the border with Feyre. Now they had caught him again. 

Pathetic. There was a war going on that could destroy Prythian and Lucien would die at the hands of his brothers. Maybe this is what was always destined to happen. 

“Maybe we should carve him up,” Asher said, twirled a knife. 

“He’s got Illyrian leathers on,” Rori tsked, “those are hard to cut through.”

“Then I’ll start by taking his other eye,” Asher laughed maniacally and lowered onto his knees. 

No, Lucien begged the Mother not to let this happen. Not again. A small part of him wished that he had called Cassian from the sky so the older male would know he was there. No one had seen where he had gone, just that he had arrived. Asher and Rori would kill him in the war and say it was Hybern. 

Asher’s hand was calloused and cold as he gripped Lucien’s chin and forced him to look at him. 

“You had no right to kill him,” Asher spat. Lucien let out a choked cry as the knife lowered onto his cheek. Delicate skin split open at the tip. He had to act  _ now _ or Lucien would be crawling back to Nuan. If he was alive at all by the end of this. 

His hands went from trying to push Rori’s foot off his neck to gripping Asher’s wrist and bending it the way Cassian had shown him. He bent it until Asher’s scream was drowned out by a sickening snap and the knife fell from his grip. In another swift move Lucien grabbed the knife and slashed at Rori’s Achilles tendon. Blood splattered on his cheek, in his mouth as his brother screamed. Lucien pushed his foot away and scrambled to his feet. 

But Lucien hadn’t counted on Roux. He should’ve known better. Roux was silent and always hidden. Lucien didn’t even know he was there until his knife was sliding between his ribs, in the one vulnerable place in his leathers. Lucien gasped in pain, staring at his brother’s cold eyes. 

“You never learn, Lucie,” he growled. No, he doesn’t. But Roux never changes. Lucien lifted his knee between Roux’s legs, making his older brother groan and fall to the ground. He took the knife with him. Lucien cried out as it was ripped out of his side. 

But he didn’t hesitate to run. Even as the blood pooled inside his leathers, Lucien didn’t stop running. 

The fighting had finally ended. Lucien had broken through the woods only to be in the middle of battle on the opposite side from anyone he knew. He was fighting among the Day Court soldiers, but his eyes were still trained on the Illyrian war bands crashing down on the Hybern forces. He had forced his way through the tangle of bodies until the fighting ceased. 

The blood loss was starting to make him dizzy, but he pushed forward. Just a little further he saw Feyre clinging to Rhysand and Nesta shielding Cassian with her own body. He was definitely going to ask about that later. 

The first one to notice him approaching was Mor. 

Fuck was the first word that came to Lucien’s mind when he saw her barreling towards him. All he could do is stand still and wait for her to slam into him with wide eyes. He bit back a groan as her arms wrapped around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. 

“Thank the mother,” she breathed, “none of us had seen you. We were beginning to worry you had been killed.” He nearly had. 

“Mor,” he groaned as his knees gave out. She let out a startled yelp, catching him before he could faceplant in the mud. 

“Lucien,” she said, her hand pressing down over the wound. She looked shocked at the blood coating her pale skin when she pulled it back. A breathy laugh left his lips and she called for a healer. His body felt heavier as she laid him down on the ground, her hands putting pressure on the wound. 

“Lucien,” Feyre’s shaky voice made him groan in his response. His mind was so foggy, fuck. 

“Fuck,” his voice was so scratchy. 

“Just hold on Lucien, Thesan is coming,” Feyre assured him, one of her hands smoothing his hair as the other gripped his own limp hand. 

“Stop staring at me like I’m dying,” he muttered. “Cheated death, remember.”

“Idiot,” she said with her own shaky laugh. 

_ Lucien, _ her voice called him,  _ Lucien come home. _

“....Jes,” he whispered, eyelids heavy.

“No!” Feyre screamed. She shook his shoulders but as he lips moved Lucien couldn’t hear her words. All he could hear as he closed his eyes was Jesminda’s soft voice. 

***

Hushed voice was the first thing he heard. A sharp ‘shut up’ made him crack his eyes open. He was in his room at the townhouse, that much he knew. His side throbbed. It all rushed back to him at once. Rori. Asher.  _ Roux _ . 

“...Lucien?” Elain’s voice made him jump which only made it feel like his side was being ripped in half. A small cry left his lips, capturing the attention of the hushed voices. 

“Hey,” Mor breathed, lowering on the bed next to him and helping him sit up. Feyre and Rhysand were also there. Relief was evident in their faces despite their defensive demeanor.

“I thought I told you to come back in one piece,” Rhysand said.

“At least I’m not dead,” he mumbled, “is everyone okay?” 

“More or less,” Rhysand answered. 

“Lucien what the hell happened?” Feyre asked, “You disappeared. We know you weren’t on the battlefield.”

“I was with Jurian,” he answered automatically. 

“Jurian was looking for you,” Rhysand countered. “Be honest with us, Lucien.”

Honest? He got hurt in battle, or that’s all they needed to know. What was the big deal of all this? Unless...no, no they wouldn’t think that of him. Yet as he looked at their tentative eyes he knew. 

“You think I went to Tamlin,” he whispered, voice cracking. Feyre and Rhysand exchanged a glance. 

“Lucien-” Mor said.

“Get out,” he growled. 

“Listen our-”

“I said get out!” He roared. Fire burned in his veins as Rhysand nodded. 

They quietly shuffled out except Elaine. She stayed in her seat next to him. He glared as her hand rested on his thigh.

“Lucien I know-”

“Get out Elain,” he spat. Hurt flashed across her face. He didn’t have the energy to care as she followed her sister out. 

Lucien shifted uncomfortably until he was laying on his side with his back facing the door. The fact that he didn’t have to lay on his injured side was a small blessing.

Until the familiar dread squeezed at his heart. 

“Lucien, you fucking idiot,” he whispered to himself as his lip trembled. 

Of course they were friendly, they needed him to go to the continent. He doesn’t know if he still would have sacrificed himself if they hadn’t cared, no, hadn’t pretended to care. Pretend. That’s all it ever was. Lucien was never truly wanted anywhere, what made him think he was wanted here and not just another minor inconvenience. All he was only ever a burden. A useless seventh son. An emissary that was never planned. A forced guest. 

The memory? He let himself get tricked by a memory he doesn’t even remember. Humiliation and shame bubbled in his belly as a quiet sob echoed through the room. 

_ Useless.  _

_ Pathetic.  _

_ Mistake.  _

Gods, Lucien felt like an absolute idiot. His chest ached with decades of self-loathing. He shouldn’t have fought back in the forest. Yes, he should’ve let his brothers kill him. Being tortured by them would’ve been easier than this. 

The sun had set and rose and Lucien hadn’t slept. He hadn’t eaten. He had only gotten up to push a dresser in front of the door, which had only torn his stitches open. Feyre had banged on the door, begging him to let them in. A growl was all she got in response. 

Lucien had plenty of practice of stitching himself back together. He should be used to this by now. But each time it hurt as if it was the first time. 

The begged the question, where would he go? He had mused the idea of joining Vassa and Jurian, but he would be tagging along as the clear third wheel. His chances at Spring were ruined. None of the other courts thought highly of him after Tamlin’s debacle with Hybern. Maybe he’d go to Autumn, let his brothers have their way with him. He’d go to Eris first and beg his brother to be the one to kill him. Eris was the only one of them to show mercy. First he’d ask to see his mother, just once before they killed him. Gods, he had missed her so fucking much. He’d also ask them to not let her bear witness. 

_ My little Lucien,  _ she used to say with a soft laugh,  _ you shine as bright as the day. _

Another sob left his lips as he remembered the feeling of her fingers in his hair and the way she smelled of roasted chestnuts. If he closed his eyes he could still see her. A tear slipped down his cheek as he imagined her cupping cheeks. 

_ Come home, Lucien _ . Jesminda had told him. How could he tell her that he had no home.

Lucien only knew it was afternoon because Feyre had just knocked and asked if she could at least come in to leave a tray of food. Nuala and Cerridewn hadn’t slipped through the wall which he was grateful for. 

He twirled a dagger in his hand. Maybe he was overthinking it all. Maybe he could end it all himself. All his suffering, all his pain could end with a simple swipe of his blade against the delicate skin of his wrist. Lucien hadn’t done this since Jesminda’s death. When Tamlin had caught him a bloodied mess on the bathroom floor he made Lucien swear to come to him next time. Back then Lucien had agreed. 

Now a bitter laugh escaped his lips. Tamlin would probably thank him for doing it. Hell, he’d probably stand and watch. 

He lowered the blade and pressed it to his skin, a small cut opening and a single stream of blood fell. 

_ Don’t be a coward, do it _ . His father’s voice mocked. 

A knock on the window made him jump. Lucien looked up to meet Cassian’s horrified stare. The Illyrian had flown up to the second floor, but Lucien could see his wings were still healing. He spared Cassian of anymore pain and unlocked it. Cassian slipped in quickly, locking it again. 

“I-” The blade was knocked out of his hand and Lucien was pulled into the tightest embrace he had ever experienced. 

“Lucien,” Cassian’s voice was thick and his hands trembled where they gripped Lucien’s shirt. He settled for resting his head on the Illyrian’s shoulder, despite them being nearly the same height. “Please tell me I was mistaken and I didn’t just see what I think.”

“I’m sorry.” Cassian whined, pulling away and gently grasping Lucien’s wrist. The skin was marred with faint white lines. 

“What happened? What did they say to you?” Cassian snarled protectively. Lucien stayed silent, he was not going to be the one to come between the brothers. 

“Nothing-”

“Do not lie to me,” he fumed, “tell me what they said.”

Lucien sighed, sitting on the bed. His side still ached, his eyes were puffy from his crying, and his head hurt from the lack of sleep. All he wanted to do was curl into the sheets and sleep for the next thousand years. 

“They asked me if I went back to Tamlin because no one saw me on the battlefield,” Lucien mumbled. He didn’t know why he was telling Cassian this. 

“Bastards,” he growled, “where were you? I didn’t see you and I know you weren’t with Tamlin.”

“My brothers,” Lucien whispered, looking down, “they found me. Dragged me to the woods. They tried to kill me.”

“They  _ what _ .” Lucien had never heard such rage in Cassian’s voice. But he shrugged and laid back like he did all those weeks ago. 

“I should’ve let them.”

“No, Lucien-”

“I’m tired, Cassian,” he mumbled, a tear streaming down his face. A calloused hand wiped it away as a sob broke from his chest. 

“I’m so tired,” he sobbed, curling in on himself. 

“Let it out, foxboy,” Cassian said, taking his wrist and Lucien could feel him cleaning the small cut then bandaging it. Sobs shook his frame and echoed throughout the room. Cassian moved to pull his hand away but Lucien was quick to grip his wrist.  _ Please don’t go _ . 

So he did. Decades of anguish spilled out of his lips as wails and eventual screams. Cassian pulled the younger male into his arms. Lucien was falling apart in his arms. He could vaguely hear Feyre banging on the door and Cassian telling her to give them a moment. 

He mourned. Fuck, he was never given the chance to do this before. No, he went from running to the borders right into emissary work. It was only in fleeting moments where he gave himself a brief moment to lament. Those moments became less frequent over the decades until it was only once every few years. But in Cassian’s arms, Lucien let himself remember and let himself feel for once. 

“You all are fucking assholes,” Cassian’s voice hissed from the otherside of the door. 

“Cassian we-”

“No, no both of you jumped to conclusions. You, Rhys, you welcomed him into this family and then treated him like a traitor when he returned. He sacrificed himself to find Vassa,” Cassian yelled, “and you didn’t bother to ask, you went straight for the accusations!”

“I feel like a child listening to his parents argue,” Lucien mumbled. Azriel snorted next to Lucien. Both males were laid up with stab wounds, Lucine had ripped his poorly redone stitches in the middle of his sobbing. When Azriel had heard of what Lucien had almost done, he demanded to see him. Since then they had been sitting next to each other. Occasionally, Azriel’s shadows would tug at Lucien’s wrist. 

“They deserve it,” Azriel said, shadows dancing across Lucien’s shoulders. 

“I suppose.”

“I don’t care if you have to  _ grovel  _ at his feet and kiss them, Rhysand, you will apologize.” 

“I’m not letting another night pass without an apology, Cassian.”

Cassian had been ripping into them for the better part of two hours by then. Elain had been the first to apologize. She was clear with her words, she didn’t think he had betrayed them in any way. Lucien wanted to apologize for snapping at her but she was having none of it. They had hugged. She had pet his hair the way his mother would and he melted in her arms. Maybe him and Elaine weren’t meant to be romantically involved as mates, maybe instead they were meant to help each other heal.

Mor had also apologized, the bottle of wine she brought with her was a bonus. She had also shown him some of his clothes. Then had helped him dress in more comfortable clothes. Words didn’t have to be said between them. Her tight hug conveyed her emotions. 

“Lucien,” Feyre’s shaky voice made him snap out of his thoughts. She looked afraid of him. No, not of you, of what you would say, he told himself. 

“We shouldn’t have been so quick to judge you Lucien. You have never given us a reason to and it was wrong of us. We should’ve heard your side before making conclusions,” Rhysand said, “I’m so sorry, Lucien. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“We should’ve worried about you first and where you were second,” Feyre said, “I’m so fucking sorry Lucien.”

“You…” Lucien struggled to find the words. Feyre sat on his other side and gripped his bandaged wrist with a trembling hand. Rhysand rested his hand on Lucien’s shoulder. 

“You are still part of this family, Lucien. There’s nothing short of extreme betrayal that would change that,” Rhysand assured him, “even then, you would still be my brother.”

“Brother?” He whispered with wide eyes. Rhysand nodded. 

“I’m so sorry Lucien,” Feyre whispered, “that we made you feel horrible enough to do this to yourself.”

“I had that problem long before I met you, Feyre,” Lucien answered. 

“But we made it worse,” Rhysand said, “do not make this easy for us, Lucien. We pushed you to the brink. We deserve your anger.”

“I don’t like being angry,” he said. 

“I’ll be angry for you,” Cassian huffed, making Lucien let out a breathy laugh. 

“I’d rather move on from...all this,” Lucien admitted. 

“Then we move on,” Rhysand said. Feyre hugged him tightly, careful of his side. Lucien rubbed her back when he felt her tears on his shoulder. Lucien forgot how deep Feyre’s worry for her friends went. How young she was compared to the rest of them. 

“I promise I’m not mad at you, Feyre,” Lucien mumbled.

“I deserve it!”

“No, you don't,” Lucien said, pulling away and wiping her cheeks, “if it makes you feel better to hear my forgiveness, then I forgive you. I know you two didn’t mean to hurt me and that you were still thinking strategically. I’ve never been in war so I don’t know how hard it is to step away from that mindset. So I forgive you both.”

“I don’t think we deserve it so soon,” Rhysand admitted, “but if it helps you feel at peace then thank you.”

“It does. I’m tired of fighting,” Lucien said. 

“How about a toast then?” Feyre said, standing to grab the bottle of wine Mor left. She poured a glass for all of them and raised hers, “To Lucien, our newest member of the family.”

“To Lucien,” they all said and downed the wine. Lucien swirled his wine and smiled. 

“To Jes,” he whispered, downing his wine. 

“Now scoot over,” Rhysand said. Lucien looked at him confused but did so anyways. Rhysand laid in his old spot and soon he was sandwiched between Azriel and Rhysand.

“Where the fuck am I supposed to lay?” Cassian grumbled. 

“You big baby,” Rhysand said as Cassain laid on his stomach, his head resting on Rhysand’s belly. 

“Um, what the fuck?”

“As a brother you are now part of post-argument cuddles,” Rhysand said. 

“Cuddles?” he said incredulously.

“Yes, cuddles. Now would you please relax, you're so damn stiff,” Azriel grumbled. 

“My brothers they-we-”

“They’re flaming pieces of shit,” Cassian said, “and not your brothers anymore. We are.”

Lucien eased into his spot. Soon he felt Rhysand’s fingers caring through his hair and Cassian’s wing extend over his legs. Lucien closed his eyes but this time he didn’t imagine his mother doing it. 

He didn’t have to imagine any one comforting him anymore. 

"Please come to us whenever you feel this way, Lucien," Azriel breathed, "no matter the time or day."

"None of us will care if you interrupt a meeting, family is always first," Rhysand assured him when he was about to protest. 

"We'll always be there for you," Cassian mumbled with eyes closed. Soon his breathing evened and his muscles relaxed. 

“Rest, little Lucien,” Rhysand said softly. 

So he did and for the first time since he was a child, Lucien felt at peace as he drifted off to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was really cathartic to write. Please, not hate against Feysand, I don't think they ever intend to hurt Lucien. 
> 
> Also, those fuckers cuddle on the regular and you can't change my mind. 
> 
> I have a few ideas, but what would guys like to see next? Lucien and Nesta bonding or the beginning of Lucien and Helion's story?


End file.
